"Rather, you are not such a coward. I must have been terrible
yesterday. I--I almost struck you. And you were certainly brave when
the whip hung over you. Why, you did not even attempt to raise a hand
and shield yourself."
"I notice the dogs your whip falls among come nevertheless to lick your
hand and to be petted."
"Ergo?" she queried, audaciously.
"Ergo, it all depends," he equivocated.
"And, notwithstanding, I am forgiven?"
"As I hope to be forgiven."
"Then I am glad--only, you have done nothing to be forgiven for. You
acted according to your light, and I to mine, though it must be
acknowledged that mine casts the broader flare. Ah! I have it,"
clapping her hands in delight, "I was not angry with you yesterday; nor
did I behave rudely to you, or even threaten you. It was utterly
impersonal, the whole of it. You simply stood for society, for the
type which aroused my indignation and anger; and, as its
representative, you bore the brunt of it. Don't you see?"
"I see, and cleverly put; only, while you escape the charge of
maltreating me yesterday; you throw yourself open to it to-day. You
make me out all that is narrow-minded and mean and despicable, which is
very unjust. Only a few minutes past I said that your way of looking
at it, theoretically considered, was irreproachable. But not so when
we include society.
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